The 9th Class Swordmaster: Blade of Truth-Chapter 352: Tactical Moves (2)

All eyes in the hall turned toward the new arrival.

“Sir Kuwell.”

A frigid chill filled the Sun Hall.

“At your service, Your Majesty. I have answered your call as a knight of the empire.”

Kuwell’s heavy armor clanged loudly as he approached. Behind him were his eldest son, Martte, and his third son, Elliot. The latter seemed eager to join the frontlines right away, but Martte’s face was somber in contrast.

“As you can see, the situation is dire. Sir Cam Gray has been slain, and Marquis Vestal has fallen. This is truly... a disgrace to the empire.”

“My deepest apologies,” Kuwell replied with a grim expression.

“The empire is indeed in crisis,” Olivurn went on. “However, now is the time for you to prove your loyalty.”

“Your Majesty!” a booming voice suddenly echoed from the entrance of the Sun Hall.

Belin Vallention, clad in his thick golden armor, strode in so resolutely that the weight of his armor seemed nonexistent.

“Give me the order, Your Majesty! I will lead our forces and crush those filthy barbarians!”

Belin, the commander of the Imperial Knights, briefly glared at Kuwell before kneeling and clasping his hands together in a fervent plea.

“I understand your resolve. However, I have already appointed another to command.”

Olivurn’s words caused Belin’s face to harden. “How can you trust him? It was this very man who allowed the enemy to grow strong enough to threaten the empire!”

Kuwell remained silent, unable to refute Belin’s accusation.

“Sir Kuwell, as the empire’s greatest knight, can you bring me victory?” Despite Belin's outburst, Olivurn’s unwavering gaze remained fixed on Kuwell.

“I will carry out your orders,” Kuwell responded firmly, bowing again before turning to leave.

Olivurn nodded slowly. “Kuwell, I will assign Zaken to you. His name may not yet be widely known, but he is the empire’s second Sword Master.”

“A Sword Master...?”

Kuwell furrowed his brow slightly.

“That’s right. Although he lacks experience in war, I trust that you will be able to make good use of him,” Olivurn continued.

In his previous life, Zaken Bolt had been among the top seven warriors of the empire, notorious for his obsession with war. Even Kuwell, stationed in the northern regions, had heard rumors of him.

I’ve heard whispers that the emperor had secretly formed a special task force during his days as a prince... and Zaken is the only one whose name has surfaced. He accompanied Gordon during the northern expedition... but when did he train someone to the level of a Sword Master?

Though he had been serving Olivurn for many years, Kuwell was starting to wonder if he truly knew his emperor at all. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how little he understood Olivurn’s plans. Every time he felt this way, the distance between them seemed to grow further, as if Olivurn was preparing something else entirely, keeping Kuwell outside of it.

“You may leave,” Olivurn dismissed him in a soft voice, watching Kuwell’s heavy steps as he turned to go.

“Do you trust him?” came a voice, barely above a whisper, from behind the throne.

With a light gesture from Olivurn, both the chancellor and the commander of the knights withdrew.

“I have no doubt about his loyalty or his abilities. However, this time, our opponent has even managed to fend off the dragons. As you know, the marquis has fallen, and Python has been captured."

“...”

“We will need to consider additional measures, Sir Neil Blanc.”

At Olivurn’s words, Tiren, standing nearby, nervously glanced at Neil Blanc, who stood opposite the throne.

The mysterious last duke had revealed himself just as Olivurn had ascended the throne, as if he had been waiting for the moment. Though his origins were unknown, Tiren had learned that his three companions were dragons. Knowing this only deepened Tiren’s uneasiness, especially as he knew how dangerous it was to anger such beings.

Upon hearing about Python’s defeat, Neil Blanc had hurried to the Sun Hall, seemingly relieved when he saw that Kuwell was present. Perhaps that was why Neil Blanc wore a faint smile even now, contrasting Tiren’s growing concern.

“It’s too soon to reach conclusions, Your Majesty,” Neil Blanc said calmly. “Python, for all his strength, is more aggressive and reckless than the others. His failure was a grave misstep, but Enuma Elashi and Cruah will not commit the same blunder.”

“But this isn’t the end, is it?”

Olivurn’s sharp remark was met with an ambiguous smile from Neil Blanc. “Your Majesty’s insight is unmatched. The dragons’ power is indeed formidable, but they are independent by nature. We cannot rely solely on them.”

“And so?”

“The Church has agreed to lend us their strength.”

Tiren swallowed hard, realizing the gravity of what was being said.

The Church has always been deeply tied to the late emperor... When did they manage to secure their support?

“Then who will lead them?”

“The bishop has recently passed. The one who will lead is a newly appointed figure.”

“Hmm... I had no idea about such developments within the Church. With all the preparations for war, I regret not handling this matter sooner. It seems we owe the Church a great debt, especially with their bishop taking part in the war effort.”

Despite his words, Olivurn didn’t seem particularly surprised by the bishop’s death. If anything, his tone seemed to imply that he had expected his death.

Tiren, unaware of what had transpired in Heim, tilted his head slightly, offering no further questions.

“And who is this new bishop?”

“Rael.”

Neil Blanc lowered his head slightly, leaning in as if to whisper to Olivurn.

“Rael Stallen, Your Majesty.”

***

“Grr... Grrk!”

Karyl pressed down on Python’s head as he stood up. After confirming that no other dragons had appeared even after dawn, he turned to Anthem.

“Looks like Python was right. The other two have likely gone to different battlefields. Anthem, the marquisate is the gateway to the south. We need to fortify its defenses thoroughly. Keep the small golems on standby and replenish the elemental stones from the Ranion Alliance’s mana mines.”

“Yes, sir,” Anthem replied.

“Also, send the tribes of the Great Plains south to support the Digon. Kayla, you’ll accompany Anthem and follow me to the center.”

Anthem glanced at the tense-looking Kayla before speaking.

“The tribes of the Great Plains have already shown solid results. But as the head of one of the Five Great Families, you’ve yet to produce anything significant, right?” Karyl remarked.

Kayla nodded at his remark.

“I assigned you to Anthem because the Fierce Fire Formation of the Spear Family is superior to the tactics of any southern tribe. That means your warriors are the best suited to wield the Formless Formation technique."

“You’ve already got another plan, don’t you?” Anthem probed him.

Karyl stretched out, his expression relaxed as he announced, “We’re heading to the central region.”

“...!!!”

“...!!!”

Everyone stared at him in shock.

"Not to the battlefields where the dragons are?"

“Exactly. Just like before, we’ll make the battle come to us,” Karyl explained, a glint in his eyes.

“This is a war with the empire, but it’s also a battle against the dragons. Nobody said this wouldn’t be a challenge. Among mortals, only the dragons can claim to stand shoulder to shoulder with gods.”

“Hmm... Ahem...” Allen cleared his throat softly. “It’s not just about power. You can’t compare humans and dragons by numbers alone. A battle with them will always be a game of strategy.”

“Exactly. The dragons’ power is indeed formidable, far beyond what humans can face. But unlike them, we have this.” Karyl lightly tapped his temple with his finger.

“You’re being ridiculous right now. You, a human, who can’t live even a hundred years is boasting wisdom before a dragon,” Python, battered and weak, muttered as his face was being pressed into the ground.

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"Who told you dragons were wise?"

Tap, tap...

Karyl patted Python on the head as though he were some pet. “You’ve lived for thousands of years as nothing but the gods’ pets. If you think time alone grants wisdom, that’s proof you lack any. Time only brings complacency.”

Karyl stepped off Python’s head. “But humans are different.”

“...”

"We have free will. We call out what is wrong and seek change on our own. We did so in the past, and we’ll continue to do so.”

“So you claim to be a descendant of the Bladers? How hilarious. They were defeated, and they all died.”

“Then do you call what you gained victory?”

“...What?”

“Clinging to the gods to preserve your life—is that what you call victory?”

Python’s expression hardened.

“I consider this a rehearsal, a warm-up for fighting a higher power.”

“There’s no way...” Python’s eyes trembled at Karyl’s words. "Do you intend to start another horrific war?"

“A horrific war? Python, how old are you?”

Python looked at Karyl, confused by the sudden question. For an ancient being, counting the years had to become meaningless at some point, and so, the inquiry seemed absurd.

“I heard from the Spirit Kings that Enuma Elashi, the current Dragon Lord, was just a hatchling back then. Were you even born during the Great War of the Spirits and Gods?”

“...What?”

“What would a novice like you know?”

Karyl’s words made Allen chuckle uncontrollably. Python’s jaws twitched in annoyance as he responded in a sour tone.

“Then what about you? You’re human. You didn’t live through that war, so how can you act like you know everything?”

“Because I know something far worse,” Karyl replied.

“...Worse?”

“It’s not the past I’m talking about. I’m speaking of a future where people begin to worship the gods.”

Python stared at Karyl, perplexed. “What are you saying? Are you telling me we should follow you because of this future? The humans’ free will? Even if that is the key to changing the future, how could anyone believe in human strength alone?”

Karyl merely smirked at Python’s refute.

“I never asked you to follow me, did I? For those who don’t believe, I’ll just make them submit by force, just like I did with you. Just wait—I’ll drag you by the scruff of your neck and make you face the truth with your own eyes.”

“...”

For some reason, Python didn’t resist this time. A deep mark from Karyl’s hand remained on his forehead like a seal.

“The power of the Flame Dragon is absolute among the Red Dragons. But I can’t help you in this war against the empire.”

“Why not?”

“Because of a promise to the Platinum Dragon. The other dragons are bound by it as well. Even if you possess the power of the Dragon Lord, you won’t be able to use them in the war against the empire.”

“Are you saying the Platinum Dragon ranks higher than the Dragon Lord?”

Python nodded slowly. “He’s special. He’s the oldest, the strongest dragon. The only dragon to have participated in the Great War of the Spirits and Gods...” Python trailed off, leaving the last part unsaid.

“And a Blader, wasn’t he? Though a traitor who sided with the gods.”

Even though Karyl posed it as a question, Python’s silence was enough of an answer.

“What if I had the heart of the Platinum Dragon?”

“...What?”

“Wouldn’t that make not only you, but all the other dragons, follow me?”

Python was dumbfounded. “You say that because you don’t understand what kind of being the Platinum Dragon is.”

“Is that so?” Karyl’s lips curled into a strange smile.

Gulp—

Python swallowed dry, unnerved by Karyl’s calm confidence.

“Do you really think you can win this war? Do you think you can defeat the other two dragons without your presence on their battlefields?”

Karyl turned to walk away, his smile straying on his lips. “Of course.”

Tap. Tap.

“I’ll show you with your own eyes."

Karyl lightly patted Python on the head.

Fwoooosh...!!

Then, the massive wings of the Red Dragon unfolded. In the end, to put an end to the war, they had to take down the leader. That was why Karyl decided to head to the Central rather than any other battlefield.

That was where his objective lay—where Narh Di Maug awaited.

***

“Greys.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Viola, who had occupied the defensive fortress at the Fonein River, braced herself against the frigid northern wind, her gaze wary as she looked up at the sky.

Golden scales glinted in the pale moonlight. With powerful wingbeats, the majestic figure of the Golden Dragon hurtled toward them, exuding a terrifying presence that could easily send the entire army into a panic.

“We can’t help being awestruck by the wisdom of our king.”

Surprisingly, however, the Free Army soldiers stationed at the fortress weren’t fixated on the dragon itself. Instead, their eyes were drawn to the figures standing in front of it.

“An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. How fitting.” With those words, Viola shrugged lightly at Hashir, who stood beside her. “Don’t get me wrong. I don’t mean it in a bad way.”

Pulling his hood over his face, Hashir replied in a low voice, “It doesn’t matter. I feel the same. Even back in the north, she was already a monster among humans.”

He raised his hand, and in response, the Wolf-Fox tribe warriors behind him melted into the shadows.

“But now... she’s no longer just like a monster. She’s become the real thing. The Golden Dragon is about to go head-to-head with the greatest monster this world has ever seen.”

“Grrrrrrrrr...”

Soldiers lined up in front of the fortress. Each wielding different weapons, they were none other than the northern immigrant tribes: Thunderclap, Iron, Tiger Shield, Red Moon, Wolf-Fox, Jannabi...

No one could tell how long it had been since these tribes had last come together as one.

Karyl, I can’t believe the extent of your plans... If I can't take down that dragon in a situation like this, it would be nothing but proof of my own incompetence.

Viola felt a shiver down her spine as she watched the immigrant warriors rushing to the battlefield, as if they had been waiting for the dragon’s appearance.

But above all, the most shocking sight was the figure leading the tribes—a Lycanthrope. Under the moonlit sky, the beast’s eyes gleamed with a strange, almost hypnotic light, as if drawing in the very essence of the moonlight itself.

Standing proudly at the forefront of the immigrant warriors was Hwarin, chief of the Jannabi tribe. The emerald gemstone around her neck flashed brilliantly as she let out a fierce roar. Her monstrous presence would make it easy for the enemy to mistake her for a true beast.

However, she was different from the wild, mindless creature she had once been.

“Hahaha... Who knew I’d stumble upon such perfect prey the moment I came down from the north. All that hard work was worth it,” Hwarin spoke up, revealing her sharp fangs with a ferocious grin. Her voice carried a strange mix of amusement and bloodlust.

“Warriors of the north!”

To everyone's surprise, the Lycanthrope spoke clearly, in human tongue. Moreover, her voice was powerful, reaching all across the battlefield.

“Tear that lizard bastard to shreds!”